Biker Class (12 page)

Melanie was frozen in horror. Her mom studied her face and her brows
rose.

"Uh…"

"Is that a problem?" she asked.

Melanie wasn't sure what to do. It wasn't like out of nowhere she
could express to Ms. Hart her fears. What was she supposed to say? 'No, Mom, we
can't! I'm scared Jake might try something up there when we are alone!' Yeah,
right. Not happening.

So, not knowing what her other options were, Melanie decided to bore
her reasonless punishment in silence. It wasn't like they were the only ones in
the house after all. If necessary, she could just scream downstairs for help or
something. But he wouldn't be stupid enough to try something at her own house,
would he? If he didn't think it smart to do something at the school, surely
territory like this would scare him off, wouldn't it?

She would like to think so.

But that didn't make her heart stop beating at an unhealthy pace. With
him, she was pretty sure it would always be that way. Uttering the quietest
whimper possible, Melanie turned and led Jake up the stairs, wincing all the
while. She should have made him go up first. He was probably getting a
lovely
view right about now. She could almost feel his eyes burning into her, but
whether it was real or her imagination, she wasn't sure.

"So, uh, this is my room," Melanie said uneasily, pushing
open her door and ushering him inside. He stopped right beside the door,
waiting for her to step inside as well. She bit her lip as she walked in,
clasping her hands together on her way to her vanity. She took a seat on the
elaborate stool, pulling open a drawer and grabbing a couple of paper books.
She was about to open it and find the correct section, but a sound made her
freeze.

It was the sound like,
click!

The noise of a door shutting.

She whipped around, and there stood Jake, standing there innocently
with a smirk on his face. She was out of her stool and squeezing past him in a
flash, reopening the door with haste. Melanie turned to him, offering perhaps
the most forced smile she had ever tried.

"I'm– I, um–
we're
not allowed to shut the
door," Melanie told him, her hand jittering on the knob.

"Why not?" he asked innocently, raising his eyebrows with a
small smile of complete and utter innocence. Melanie's mouth down-turned into a
scowl, slightly aggravated. A flaming blush crept across her cheeks.

"You know," she stuttered, motioning between them. "I'm
just… not allowed to with… with…"

"A guy in your room," he finished for her, grinning largely.
Melanie muttered underneath her breath unintelligibly, flushing madly as she
fumbled with the book. Jake smiled, unable to keep it away from his face. He
enjoyed making her uncomfortable. It was hysterical seeing her reaction.

"Uh, so, you need help in English, right?" Melanie
clarified, flustered, sitting back down on her stool as he took a seat on the
edge of her bed, glancing around.

"Yeah," he said uninterestedly, resting his elbows on his
knees and glancing up at her.

She continued to flip pages, still blushing madly, taking twice as
long as she normally would. His lips turned up smugly.

"Okay, so, um, what do you have problems with the most?" she
asked, keeping her eyes on the page. "Literature? Grammar? Usage?"

"Sure," he answered, looking at the floor.

"Which one, Jake?" Melanie asked, her blush fading. Her left
brow rose.

"Uh, the fourth one," Jake fidgeted with his jacket sleeve,
not paying much attention.

"There
was
no '
fourth one
'," she frowned.
"Do you even show up in English class?"

Jake shrugged. "Once or twice."

"Well, there's your problem," Melanie concluded, shutting
the book loudly. The sound made him glance up from the hardwood floor.
"You need to
show up to class
." She spoke to him like a small,
parentless child. She suddenly seemed less timid and more animated.
"Education is a wonderful thing, Jake! It may seem like a pain, but the
better you do it and the faster you get it done, the better of a reward you get!"

"Reward?" Jake repeated, making sure he heard correctly.

"Yes, it's a great reward," she nodded, looking dreamily
into space. "The feeling of accomplishment you get when your work is
handed back and it reads,
A+
great job
!
,
it makes you just… just… swell
with pride!"

Jake was looking at her as if she had just grown a second head.

"What the
hell
?" he asked incredulously, both his
eyes and hers wide.

"Watch– watch your language," Melanie scolded meekly,
biting her lip afterwards. He scoffed. But just when he was about to respond,
he thought better of it. He remembered:

"Do I have to act like those nerds over at the private school?
Can't I just settle for not making hot jokes every five seconds? And I'll try
not to eye her. Isn't that good enough?"

"Fine," Lawson sighed. "But at least try to be as good,
as smart, as clean, as decent as those Preppies to her, a'ight?"

Jake sighed, not able to believe he was really saying what he was
about to utter. He hardly
ever
said this word, and to a girl, no less.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she muttered. "So, uh, I guess I'll just
start from the beginning." She looked a little exasperated as she opened
to the first page. "Well, according to this, we need to start with the
basics of literature. Like, the elements, you know? It's basically reviewing
9th grade stuff, you know? Like symbolist stuff, alliteration, allusions,
reference…"

Jake began to tune out, just watching her through his lashes as she
read from the book. Her legs were crossed, the paperback book resting on her
knee, causing her dress to ride up just slightly, revealing a little more skin.
Her wavy hair fell to one side of her face, revealing her nearly bare,
smooth-looking shoulder. Looking down at the paper, her thick lashes were in
full view, black and luscious with smoky eye shadow. Her lips were full and
shining. This tutoring was
not
going to go well, was it? As far as the
actual
tutoring
went, he was going to get nothing out of this. You know
what he needed? A freakin' ugly guy is what he needed.
Absolutely
no distractions.

But of course he'd just leave then and ditch.

He wasn't here for the tutoring, though. He was here for the virgin
hotty. Who was sitting there… totally alone and unarmed in any way whatsoever…
that door just a push away from being closed…

Stop it, Jake
,
stop it
!
he
ordered himself,
shaking his head and forcing himself to stare at the ground. That couldn't
happen. He couldn't do it. He wasn't going to
make
her do anything. While
doing it it'd be great, but afterwards… that was a different story.
Guilt overwhelming him for the rest of his life.
Jake
couldn't deal with that. He wasn't superman.

"Jake? Jake? Are you even listening to me?"

But what if he told her about what his friends were making him do? She
seemed like an understanding person… but surely she would just run away in
fear. If he even
looked
at her funny she would wince. Coming clean was
not an option.

"Jake?
Jake
?"

He felt a snapping in front of his face. He suddenly snapped back into
reality with eyes wide.

"Yeah? Yeah, what?"

Melanie's brows were raised, looking a little worried. "Are you
okay? You look a little… out of it."

"Uh, I'm just… thinking…" he replied, staring at his hands.
He didn't trust himself to look at her. Resistance was something that was
harder than it sounded, and it
sounded
hard, so it was nearly
impossible.

Melanie bit her lip before speaking. She seemed to have to debate on
whether or not to ask. "Um… penny for your thoughts?"

He looked
up,
feeling like his self control
was better. "Uh…" How could he phrase this? "I… I don't want you
to be afraid of me," Jake breathed honestly. Melanie sat up straighter,
lips pursing. She was feeling uncomfortable again. "I know that… I don't
have the best rep out there. And I haven't exactly been…
good
to
you." He instantly thought of when they were– well,
he
–
was interrupted in the hallway. "I just want you… to, uh, know that."

Melanie was frozen awkwardly, slowly re-shutting the tutoring book,
her mouth forming words. She smiled a small grin. "I'm– I'm not
scared of you, Jake." Lie.

"Yes, you are," he shook his head. "I know you are.
You and half of the school.
And I honestly wasn't expecting
any different."

Melanie didn't respond, biting her lip in an almost apologetic way.

"It's just…" Melanie stuttered, twisting her hands together,
"I'm new. I barely know anyone. I don't know who's word I can take and
who's I shouldn't. And I heard that… yours I
can't
.
But I don't know if the person who told me not to trust you is trustworthy. But–
but I think they are. And just…
watching
you, it kind of… speaks for
itself."

That's completely true
, he thought. "That's not completely
true."

Melanie frowned, more to herself, though. "I don't know…"

Jake tried to force a smile again. "If we are going to make
this
,"
he motioned in between them "work, then we need to have
some
form
of trust."

Melanie was looking terribly uncomfortable, gripping the book's edge.
She licked her lips (he hated himself for watching so intently) and sighed.
"I don't know if I can," she whispered honestly.

Jake shrugged. "I can't blame you, I guess."

"I–"

"
Melanie!
" the cry broke through their conversation,
her mother running through the doorway of her room. "Come on, sweetie! My friend
Rosie is downstairs. I want you to meet her!" She glanced back and forth
between the two of them, not smiling but not frowning. "Did, I, um,
interrupt
anything?"

"No," Melanie shook her head quickly, standing up and
straightening out her dress. She followed her mother out of the door. Ms. Hart
stuck her head back in apologetically.

"Just stay in here for now," she grinned. "It'll only
be a minute."

Jake nodded and glanced around her room. This was going to be a long
day.

Melanie followed her mother down the
seemingly-wedged
stairs of her home, a little enthusiastic to escape the confines of her
bedroom. Her mind was racing in all directions, wondering what he meant and
also excited about meeting her mother's coworkers. Jake didn't seem like the
emotional type or the kind that would express
anything
to her at all, so
what was that? He didn't 'want her to be afraid of him'. That was the statement
of the year. It certainly didn't seem like he was making an effort at any point
to be gentle. With the exception of maybe that afternoon on his motorcycle (one
that her mother would never ever know about), he had always tried
something
.

Seriously, it wasn't like she could just
choose
to forget that
day in the hallway. It had scared the crap out of her! But she needed to stop
wondering what his intentions were on focus on what was at hand: making a good
impression with her mother's new peers. Melanie could simply tell by the way
her mother's eyes lit up and the way she smiled that she was going to brag
about her and show off her 'gorgeous' daughter.

"Honey?" her mom's voice snapped her out of her daze. She
looked up to meet Ms. Hart's anxious face. "Are you ready to meet my
friends?" They were standing in the doorway of the living room/parlor, the
buzz of conversation surrounding them. Melanie glanced at the women nearest
her, three people that were slender and tall. She pointed towards them
questioningly, brows
raised
. Her mother shook her head
with eyes wide, directing her towards a
red-headed
woman with loose curls.

"Rosie," she smiled, "this is my daughter. Melanie."

The woman named Rosie grinned politely, extending her hand in Melanie's
direction. "Hello, there. Rosie." Melanie took her hand and shook it
gently. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," she grinned.

"Your mother talks about you
a lot
at work," Rosie
smirked. Ms. Hart shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "She thinks the world of
you. You know, not many teenage girls your age act as responsibly as you
do."

"I try," Melanie bit her lip, flattered. Her cheeks became
the lightest shade of pink.

"So, how are you liking California?" she asked, her eyebrows
raising
as she sipped a cocktail. "I realize it's
a lot different than Wisconsin."

"Very," she replied, nodding vigorously. Her mind instantly
flashed to Jake and his little gang. "But… I, uh, love the beaches."
Rosie's smile remained curious and genuine.

"So, do you have your eye on anything?"

Melanie's brows pulled together in confusion, her face gaining another
shade of pink. "Uh, excuse me?"

Rosie's face was still kind, but smug now. "You know, any hot
California guys?"

"Rosie!" her mother scolded, eyes wide.

"No, relax, Connie! I know what teenage girls look for when they
get here. I was one at one point, too, ya know." Her smirk was more
pronounced now. "So, anyone caught your eye?"

"Well, this boy she's tutoring is–"

"Nu uh, Mom!" Melanie denied before she could stop herself.
Ms. Hart looked questioning.

"You told me the other day that you thought he was hunky!"

"Well!" Melanie stammered, blushing madly. She couldn't get
caught lying, but at the same time she couldn't let the lie that she had told
her mother get around. If the right (really,
wrong
) people heard it…
well, it wouldn't be good for her.
Not at all.
"I
don't… well, he isn't
bad looking
,
Mom
, but I
don't
have feelings
for him or anything!"

"You were talking about how you thought his smirk was 'hot' and
his eyes were this crazy shade of blue!"

"Well… yeah, but I
don't
like him like that!" Her
mind turned to horrified mush at the thought of it.

"It's fine, Melanie," Rosie smiled, putting a comforting
hand on her shoulder. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"No, no," Melanie spluttered. "He… just isn't my type.
At all."

"Yeah, I kind of picked that up when I met him," Ms. Hart
smiled. "I just thought you might have been going for someone a little
more…
different
than what you were used to going for…"

"Naw, no, no, not at all," she denied repeatedly.
He is
going for me
, Melanie thought, heart drooping.

"He
is
kind of hunky though," Ms. Hart smiled meekly
at Rosie. Melanie smacked her mother's arm, disgusted. "Relax! I don't
mean it like I'm some cougar!"

Rosie laughed warmly. "What's his name, Melanie?"

"But I don't–"

"I know you don't
like
him. But what's his name?"

"Jake," Melanie replied uncomfortably, finding an excuse not
to speak further by grabbing a decorated cracker and popping it into her mouth,
chewing slowly. She wiped a crumb from the corner of her lips.

"Blue eyes and blonde hair?" Rosie suddenly asked quickly,
eyes as wide as saucers and leaning forward. Both Ms. Hart and Melanie were
panicked by her sudden expression.

"Um… yes…"

"Do you know a last name?"

"I'm not completely sure," Melanie shrugged feebly, twitching
under her mother's friend's gaze. "I want to say Cooper."

Rosie turned to Ms. Hart in a flash, looking completely shocked. Her
hands almost fanned her face like an excited teenage girl who had
top-of-the-line gossip.

"Connie,
Jake Cooper
!" she whispered in a strained
voice, leaning in and biting her bottom lip. Her mother didn't reply, brows
raised and fists clenched in anticipation. "Jake
Cooper
!"

"What about him?" Connie demanded.

"Jake Cooper!" Rosie hissed, as if it was obvious, shaking
her friend's shoulder. "
Cooper
! That's Leanne's I'm-sure-soon-to-be
step son!" Ms. Hart's jaw touched the floor. Melanie, on the other hand,
had no idea what was going on.

"Are you serious?" her mother breathed, actually
fanning
her face. "
Leanne
? Really?"

"Really!" Rosie gushed. "Her boyfriend is Stanford
Cooper, CEO of that corporation across the street!"

"Oh. My. God."

"Mom, what's going on? Is Leanne that woman you mentioned
earlier?" Melanie asked, coming between them slightly, curiously. Was
there something about this biker that she maybe didn't know?

"She's
a
… um, woman that works with
us," Connie told Melanie quickly, dismissively, turning back to her best
friend Rosie.

"Give her more of description than that!" Rosie sighed
exasperatedly. She turned to Melanie. "She's the bitch of the
office."

"
Rosie
!"

"She'll hear worse language than that at the school she goes to,
Connie. Hold your horses." She rolled her eyes and grinned. "Now, Melanie,
Leanne is one of those people who are nice to your face when she feels like it
and then stabs you in the back when you are least expecting it."

"Aw, I hate people like that," said Melanie, frowning.

"She'd know," Ms. Hart grimaced, shaking her head sadly.

Rosie suddenly seemed less friendly, staring off at nothing in
particular with a scowl of what looked like pure hatred.

"Did I mention she's a slut, too?" she scowled a deadly
scowl. Her eyes became a little misty, staring at something no one else could
see. "If you hate people like that, Melanie, then prepare to want to kill
her." Her knuckles became white as she clenched the glass in her hand.
"It started when I came home one day. I remember it so clearly. I probably
always will." Rosie sighed and tucked a dark red curl behind her ear,
revealing a sparkling earring. It was beautiful. "I had a boyfriend named
Daren. He was, um… just fantastic. He was so sweet and
kind
and… he was
handsome. He had this prince-like brown hair, charming smile and squared jaw… the
smallest of a beard on his chin… brown eyes… he was gorgeous." Connie
smiled sadly and Melanie continued to listen, ears perked. "We had been
dating for about a year and a half, and I was so happy. Sure, we had had our
ups and downs, but so does every relationship, and we got through them.

"One night at dinner, out of nowhere, he looked me
straight
in the eye and told me he loved me. He was completely honest with me, right
there on the spot, that he was very interested in spending the rest of his life
with me. So, after that, he got down on one knee and pulled a little black box
out of his pocket. We were in the middle of the restaurant, people were
watching, but I didn't care." She smiled dreamily. "I was in heaven.
I couldn't feel my body. I was just so happy and I couldn't say yes fast
enough. So, then, I had my fiancé.
My
fiancé." The smile faded and
was replaced by a frown full of hurt. "So, we had moved in together, the
wedding less than two months away, and we had bought this beautiful little
house about a block away from the beach. I remember that I fell in love with it
the second I saw it, and when he saw that I loved it, Daren was more than
willing to go for it. We had lived there for about a month, and our boxes were
close to being emptied, and I came home from work one day. I didn't know where
Daren was, so I called his cell phone. I didn't get an answer. Panicking a
little bit, I decided to call my best friend, Leanne.

"For a fraction of a second, I thought I heard a couple of rings
come from the back of the house. I was sure I must be crazy, but I went and
investigated." Her green eyes became a shade darker. Moisture came to
them. "I went to check our bedroom… and, uh…" she wiped her eye
quickly and sniffed. "I found my best friend all over my fiancé. They were
on the verge of…"

Melanie's eyes were wide apologetically, certain she just heard her
heart break. Rosie shook her head and bit her lip, persevering. She gave a
watery smile. "It was three years ago. I'm surprised she even has the lady
balls to talk to me. He left me for her and they lasted less than two months
before she dumped him. Ever since then she's been with Mr. Cooper. I pity
him."

"I pity
her
," Melanie said comfortingly, placing a
comforting hand on Rosie's arm. She smiled thankfully.

"Thank you, Melanie," Rosie took a deep breath, sighing.
"You're a good person. Just like your mom." Mother and daughter
smiled at the scarred woman, both gaining a deeper dislike for Leanne.
A new hatred for Melanie, and a more intense one for Connie.
"Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to, um, use the restroom."
She walked past them quickly, wiping at her eyes as she scurried through the
crowds.

"That's so horrible," Melanie shook her head, brows knitted
as she ran a hand through her hair.

"I know. Leanne is a…"

"Bad person."

"That's putting it mildly."

"How could anyone do something like that? That is totally
heartless."

"There are some people in this world that are heartless,
sweetie," her mother shrugged, shaking her head as well, taking a long
swig from her drink. "We are just going to mingle a bit and then I'll let
you go back upstairs to that boy who is probably about to get the worst mother
possible."

"All right."

They both wove through the crowd, stopping and talking to people here
and there. Most women smiled politely at Melanie, some looked like they were
being nice because they had to, and others didn't even exert the effort to seem
like they cared. They just introduced themselves and moved on. But when Melanie
came up to a tall, slender blonde woman, her mother gripped her arm.

"Harlot, six o'clock," she whispered in Melanie's ear.

Melanie tensed and glued on a smile, waiting for her mother to utter
the woman's name.

She seems so horrible
, she thought, desperately wanting to
give her a talking-to for what she did to sweet Rosie.

"Leanne," Connie said, dislike evident in her voice (at
least to Melanie), "I would like to introduce you to my daughter."

The blonde woman turned around, looking like she was unhappy that
someone had interrupted her oh-so-important conversation.

"Connie," she smiled an
extremely
small smile,
smirking the smallest bit before turning her eyes towards the teenager.
"So this is the famous Melanie."

"Yes, ma'am," Melanie grinned, trying to ignore the sudden
urge to slap the woman's conceited-looking face.

"Nice to meet you," she said. It came across as slightly
dull.

"You as well."

"Oh, so, we've got to go. You know, we haven't spoken to everyone
here yet. Good hosting," Ms. Hart said quickly, taking Melanie's elbow and
beginning to drag her away. "Good to see you, Leanne."

"Wait, now, Connie."

They both turned slowly, wincing internally. Leanne's right corner of
her mouth pulled into a bemused smile.